Yesterday, as I was painting Miss M’s 2-year-old toes for the first time, I realized I was introducing her into the world of beauty products. She already insists upon a powdered nose as I’m dusting my own, and she now bears her own Maui Mango, my go-to polish color by OPI. Later, through conversation with my stylist, I realized that what I was really doing was pulling Miss M down into the rut of cosmetics which I seem to have planted myself. For example:
A. I’ve been going to Maui Mango as a stand-by for at least 10 years
B. Clinique’s Glow Bronze
has been my only lipcolor for 9 years
C. I’ve added a coat of Hint of Shimmering Sandstone on for 16 years. Yes. Another person could have been born and gained a driver’s license in the amount of time that I’ve worn the same lipgloss.
D. I still have a pair of jeans in my closet – that I break out when the laundry is high – that were purchased 9 years ago.
E. My favorite pair of sandals are a 2nd gen of the prototype bought 10 years ago this summer. So my average is better on footwear at a 5 year rate.
F. When I recently cleaned out my drawers, I tossed undies from 15 years ago. There is simply no excuse.
G. I’ve not had a haircut in 15 years that didn’t include layers of some sort. Small hair victory: there was a season in which I had some streaky highlights.
Clearly, I’m in need of being beautified to the standards of, oh, this decade. Century, in some cases. Here’s what I believed happened: I went to college and lived with some cute girls who beautified me. I graduated college happy with “my look.” For the next 10 years I continued to think, “if it’s not broke, don’t fix it.” Then I blinked and saw everyone wearing skinny jeans, making my bootcut the New Mom Jean
. The blinking turned to crying. Smearing my Glow Bronze down my chin.
Now if someone can offer a solution that doesn’t require me spending a lot of money in order to not look like 2001, I’d appreciate it.
*This blog was in no way sponsored by What Not To Wear. But if the shoes still fit…